


you have no idea what my dark side looks like

by tstark (goldandtitanium)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Apocalypse, Civil War Team Iron Man, Dark Tony Stark, F/M, Hurt Tony Stark, Not Steve Rogers Friendly, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Tony Stark Angst, Tony Stark doesn't make it home from Siberia, Winter Soldier Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 20:01:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16878300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldandtitanium/pseuds/tstark
Summary: Steve Rogers left Tony Stark in an immobilized suit in a HYDRA bunker. Vision is called to retrieve him, but HYDRA gets there first.The world should have always feared Tony Stark.





	you have no idea what my dark side looks like

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Thank You Captain America](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10431450) by [TheSourceOfAll](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSourceOfAll/pseuds/TheSourceOfAll). 



> hey y'all! so i had some free time and I wrote this instead of working on my massive WIP, which has not been updated in three weeks (i know aren't i the Best)
> 
> anyway i had this idea and it wouldn't leave me alone. it'll probably end up with 1-2 more chapters, but idk. anyway, enjoy!
> 
> note: it's not major for this piece, but this isn't too steve rogers friendly. actually it's probably pretty overt. okay, this is a team IM fic. don't like, don't read: self-care is not reading fics that you know will make you mad!

 

_April 4, 2016_

Tony Stark doesn’t come back from Siberia.

 

* * *

 

_May 4, 2016_

It’s been a month since what is now dubbed the “Avengers’ Civil War”, and the world is starting to finally realize that he’s well and truly gone.

At first, they thought that he’d gone off the grid, like Steve Rogers and the rest of “Team Cap”. That speculation was put to an end when an anonymous source _(Pepper, Rhodey, FRIDAY)_ tipped off the CIA and the New York Times about a little-known nation called Wakanda.

(If a few state secrets related to a rare and valuable element weren’t excluded from the leak, well, would that really be the worst thing?)

Then, Stark Industries shares plummet, worse than they had when Tony Stark was lost to gunfire and the Afghan desert. No comment from the company. No comment from the CEO. No comment from War Machine.

Virginia Potts, James Rhodes, and Harold Hogan wear black. So do tens of thousands of Stark Industries employees worldwide.

It is then that the world realizes that _this isn’t a drill._

_Tony Stark is gone._

Pepper Potts refuses to appoint a new CTO or Head of R&D.

 

* * *

 

Vision is consumed by guilt.

Colonel Rhodes laughs bitterly and remarks that in that vein, Vision takes very strongly after his father.

Rhodes that he assures him that his paralysis was not his fault — nor was it Wilson’s, really.

As for Tony…

Well. They’d all failed Tony one way or another, hadn’t they?

But the blame rested with Rogers and Barnes. He was certain.

After all, he’d been going to find them when he was left to die in a Siberian HYDRA bunker.

When he and the armor disappeared not long after.

 

* * *

 

Pepper cries.

Rhodey yells at her for breaking up with Tony for something he couldn’t _fucking control_ when he was _already going through so much shit,_ even though Rhodey knows that Pepper was perfectly entitled to her feelings on their relationship, even though he knows Tony’s manic desperation took a toll on their connection.

He doesn’t care. He just wants to yell.

Pepper knows this, and she blames herself anyway.

They cry together.

Happy joins.

 

* * *

 

There’s a spider who wants to apologize.

It’s not Romanoff, unsurprisingly.

Peter Parker shows up at the Compound one day, sobbing under his spider-mask, saying _I should have done better, I should have done more, I shouldn’t have let Rogers and Barnes get away,_ and the guilt complex reminds Rhodey so much of Tony Stark that he almost cries.

He keeps it together, barely.

 _It’s okay, kid,_ he soothes (sobs). _It’s okay._

 _No, it’s not!_ Parker replies (screams). _It’s not, because he’s dead, and it’s my fault! I killed — I killed Tony Stark!_

Rhodey closes his eyes. _No, you didn’t._

_I did._

Rhodey shakes his head. _You didn’t. He’s not dead._

Parker stares up at him.

Rhodey smiles, too brittle for the smile to be real. _He’s not dead, I swear,_ he says fondly. _That’s what they all said the last time. Just wait for the big explosion._

 

* * *

 

They presume Tony dead.

 _They presume incorrectly, the idiots,_ Tony’s teasing voice lilts in Rhodey’s head. _Me, dead? They’re getting a little too hopeful._

Rhodey shakes his head. Thinks the words he knows he can’t bear to say aloud.

 _What if they’re right?_ he whispers in his own mind. _What if you are dead?_

_For shame, honey bear! Et tu, Rhodey? Betrayed, I say! Betrayed!_

Betrayed.

Once in Afghanistan. Once in Siberia.

Stane, Rogers.

And Rogers might have been the one that did it.

 

* * *

 

The world suffers without Tony Stark.

It starts, as many things do, with money.

The economy goes into a mild recession at the loss of Tony Stark. There’s chaos in Washington as politicians scramble to save face, both in terms of fiscal policy and international relations.

The world, watching the man with the flag on his chest level a Romanian tunnel and a German airport, turns on the United States at a time when they are in desperate need of trade agreements and international commerce.

When the Star-Spangled Man and his entourage reappear at a HYDRA outpost in China and send a crowded street up in flames, things only get worse.

No one pays the damages.

The Maria Stark Foundation, the September Foundation, and a thousand other philanthropic ventures lose major funding.

From there, it’s little things that start adding up.

The next time the Rogues try their hand at Avenging, Russian law enforcement has shoot-on-sight orders.

Barton doesn’t make it.

 

* * *

 

_Miles away, Tony screamed._

 

* * *

 

_June 4, 2016_

It’s been two months and the world decides Tony Stark is dead.

They had hope for a while, remembering Afghanistan.

No one believed in him then either, though.

No one believes in him now.

They remember him as a hero. That has to count for something, Rhodey thinks.

They blame Rogers, and that counts for more.

The Spider-kid keeps dropping by.

Harley Keener appears, too, his mother and sister by his side, and he cries for his Mechanic.

The Mechanic has left Harley forty-six suits of armor, a third of the shares of Stark Industries, and a few billion dollars.

Harley doesn’t want them.

 

* * *

 

Pepper, Rhodey, Happy, and Harley don’t believe Tony’s dead. They refuse to.

_Just wait for the big explosion._

They do go to Tony’s gravestone together, though. The one they refused to hold a funeral at.

The Spider-kid timidly asks to come. Harley scowls a little, but there’s no heat behind it. Rhodey can tell he doesn’t really mind.

There’s security by the cemetery twenty-four-seven now. It’s anyone’s guess why.

The press doesn’t know why Tony chose this particular cemetery to be buried in. It’s not his parents’, not a famous scientist’s, not anyone’s he ostensibly knows. It isn’t famous or even well-maintained.

It is, however, the final resting place of Edwin and Ana Jarvis.

Tony’s empty casket lies across from theirs. The world would never know they were family, but Tony would.

They all bring little things for Tony. Pepper brings that necklace he made her out of the shrapnel in his heart. Harley Keener brings a potato gun and a sandwich, for god knows what reason. Parker brings the suit Tony made him. Happy brings a keychain that Tony gave him, and Rhodey knows it has some sort of sentimental value. Rhodey brings the platypus tie Tony got him for their first Christmas together at MIT.

They don’t leave it by his gravestone, because Tony isn’t there.

No one knows where Tony is.

 _He’s not dead,_ Rhodey insists.

Pepper and Peter don’t believe him.

Happy and Harley do.

 

* * *

 

They go back to the Compound together.

“You know, when I first met Tony,” Pepper breaks the silence in their hollow Stark Industries limousine, “I yelled at his accounting director for being incompetent, then threatened his bodyguard — not Happy — with pepper spray, and he hired me on the spot.”

That gets some dim laughs.

“When I met Tony, he broke into my garage and demanded that I make him a sandwich,” Harley sniffles with glistening eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

Happy snorts. “Sounds like him.”

Rhodey shakes his head. “Tones, you dumbass,” he mutters, and he smiles a little.

They go back to the Compound, and they spend the night exchanging stories about the man who everyone knew and who no one knew at all.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, they find out what happened in Siberia.

It’s posted to Youtube anonymously. Footage from the bunker.

The fight — awful, _traitor,_ brutal, _liar,_ heartbreaking, _murderer_ — Steve Rogers left Tony Stark to die.

_(Tony didn’t fight to kill, if he wanted them dead, they’d be dead, and Tony could have died—)_

The system must be automated because there’s exactly thirty minutes of video, and to Rhodey, the last twenty are the most heartbreaking.

Tony, lying on the ground.

Tony, struggling to move in his metal coffin.

Tony, gasping for breath.

Tony, choking.

Tony, helpless and dying.

The video cuts before whoever took Tony took Tony.

 

* * *

 

One more month before the world finds out.

 

* * *

 

_July 4, 2016._

It’s ironic, really.

Eight years before, Tony Stark spent three months in captivity in Afghanistan before he was found wandering in the desert.

Now, after three more months in a HYDRA cell, the world finds him once again.

_Just look for the big explosion._

Rhodey doesn't have to look that hard.

 

* * *

 

It’s another Youtube video. Live.

It’s not anonymous.

This one’s from HYDRA.

 

* * *

 

There’s screaming in the background.

A HYDRA agent appears in front of the camera.

 _Good evening, people of the world,_ says the HYDRA agent calmly. _We are HYDRA._

Someone is screaming, muffled and desperate, but it’s distant, off frame. The HYDRA agent pays them no mind.

 _Today marks two anniversaries that we would like to share with you,_ he continues. _The first is American Independence Day. It has been 240 years to the day since the United States declared its independence from Great Britain, propelling the Thirteen Colonies into years of gruesome war, reshaping the very world as we know it._

The HYDRA agent grins wickedly.

_In the time since, it has become the antithesis to all that is good in this world — order, peace, control; everything that HYDRA stands for. America symbolizes chaos, corruption, and destruction, just as its former intelligence apparatus, SHIELD, did._

_We cannot celebrate Independence Day. Not when dependence, subjugation is the natural state of human nature._

The man off camera wails in pain.

_However, HYDRA does find cause to celebrate another anniversary today — that of the birth of Steve Rogers, known to the world as Captain America._

_Now, like many of you, we never believed we would… honor Mr. Rogers on his birthday. But like many of you, the Avengers have proven to be not who we thought they were._

_And so, Mr. Rogers, we honor you. For you have unwittingly given us the most valuable asset we could ever hope to attain, and for that, we must thank you. And truly, we do._

The agent gets up and begins walking down a dark metal corridor, and the camera follows.

 _You would be proud, America,_ the agent says offhandedly as he walks. _Proud of your hero. He fought, within an inch of his sanity. We were almost impressed._

He grinned coldly. _Of course, it did not matter in the end. We broke him as we did all our other assets. All humans are breakable. And he is, unfortunately for you, human._

He pulled a wheel to open a heavy concrete door.

 

There are agents lining either side of the room.

It is dark, barely lit.

There is blood on the walls, on the floor.

There is a chair, and a man is slumped in it. Not too tall, and skinny. Messy brown hair stained with red, and black across his body. His arms are silver, though, not flesh-toned, and metallic plates stood out at odd angles from his neck. He is braced by metal and wires and clamps.

Blue hums from his chest. It is sickening.

He looks like the night, at war with day. At war with light.

 _“Torgovets,”_ barks the agent. _Merchant._

The man’s eyes dart up.

The man is Tony Stark.

 

 _“Ya gotov otvechat,”_ he says hollowly.

Ready to comply.

 

 _“Kak my obsuzhdali.”_ As we discussed.

The agent returns his attention to the camera, and behind him, Tony Stark is given a computer. His hands begin typing furiously, but his expression remains impassive, unfeeling.

“We have captured your Iron Man,” the agent says. “Your… Merchant of Death. We have taken him and… made him better. Added his father’s formula to his blood and used his knowledge of the Vita-Rays to build him once more into a soldier far stronger than the Winter Soldat, or even Captain America himself. Combined with his knowledge, his genius, and his experience… we have found the ultimate weapon. And we will unleash him upon you and watch you burn, unless you, like him, are ready to comply.

“To every sovereign nation of the world: you have twenty-four hours to submit to HYDRA and to agree to be ruled unconditionally by a monarch of our choosing. If you do not, the Merchant of Death will lay waste to your land and your people. Every single one.

He turns back to Tony Stark.

 _“Gotovo?”_ Is it done?

Tony Stark is hollow. Empty. _“Da,”_ he replies, in a voice that is not his own.

“Turn on the news, America,” the HYDRA agent grins at the camera. “The White House is now little more than a scorch mark on Pennsylvania Avenue. I do so love our Merchant, so efficient,” he almost cooed.

Behind him, Tony Stark’s brows furrow.

“Happy birthday, America.”

Tony Stark twitches.

“Happy birthday, Captain America.”

Tony Stark’s eyes fly open, wild, deranged.

 _“No!”_ he screams, and he lurches up. The metallic arms of the chair immediately rise to corner him, capture him, but he struggles and struggles. An agent approaches and places a gun to Tony Stark’s head, and Tony Stark smashes his head onto the machine. Blood explodes everywhere.

The machine whirs to life. Tony Stark fights. A muzzle clamps over his mouth.

There’s a buzzing, and Tony Stark’s body tenses all over.

Then, he screams.

A wounded animal’s cry, or a howl, or anything else, but the sound Tony Stark makes is not a human noise.

It is pain, muffled behind the muzzle. It is agony.

The agent reaches forward and flips a switch, and a blue light pulses through the machine.

_Good night, Tony Stark._

Tony slumps in his chair.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys! what did you think?
> 
> I think I'm going to write one or two more chapters for this thing, but after I update my huge WIP because I haven't written for it in a while and I promised an update like two weeks ago.
> 
> but what do y'all think? should i just leave it here or add more chapters? idk man I'm just chillin procrastinating on my math homework, as ya do
> 
> if you liked this, please leave a comment or a kudos! those really make my day and make writing this worthwhile :) I'm a sad person who craves Validation <3


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